Disappear
by metacognitive
Summary: Being that bitter harpy of La Push is easier than showing them what I truly am. ::Rated for language::


_Character: Leah  
Rating: T for language  
Genre: General/Drama  
Disclaimer: Please. Check out my profile. 'Tis SMeyer's.  
Summary: Being that bitter harpy of La Push is easier than showing them what I truly am._

_A/N: I haven't been very active for Twilight lately. I've kind of moved onto South Park. Heh.  
I'm working on the next chapter of Stuck though, so...expect it sometime in November. Oh, and happy Halloween to those of you who celebrate it._

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_**Disappear**_

_Every little girl knows about love. It is only her capacity to suffer because of it that increases.  
_~~_Francoise Sagan_

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Sometimes- okay, most of the time, really- I find it hard to stay. And not physically, oh no, I'm sticking around for the sake of Seth, really. What I mean is mentally. But it's not like I zone of when I'm on patrol, consciousness soaring over a faraway country I yearn for. I'm no Julia Bell, man. I mean _really_ there. Like Bella fuckin' Swan-Cullen, or whatever she calls herself now. She was a goddamn zombie, lost.

The difference between me and her? I'm not in love with the monster anymore. Yeah. I'm over Sam. _He's_ the one who can't move on. I know- hell, _everyone_ in the pack knows- that a little tiny part of him still loves me. It doesn't grow, but it doesn't fade away either. It's like...herpes. On a good day, you can kind-of forget you have it. On the bad days, you're a carrier monkey for every non-infected person in the world. Sucks for you...

Anyway, sometimes I'll even find myself sitting on my bed, feeling sorry for Emily. Then I remember she stole my boyfriend and condemn her. Yes, I'm over him, but that doesn't change the fact that she abandoned family for some boy. There are rules, remember? _Bros before hoes, don't date your best friend's ex-boyfriend;_ you know, the basics.

She didn't think twice before running off with him, despite the fact that we were best friends. Not only did she betray a close friend, but she turned her back on family, all because they were- are- _in love_. And I'm not spiting imprinting, I just don't see it as a solid, justified love.

Like Kim and Jared? That's called _infatuation_, honey. Learn it. Love it. Continue living it. I wish you a long, happy life.

Quil and Claire? Okay, I feel bad for the both of them. Quil's a pedophile- yes, damn it, knowing that someday you will most likely be fucking and _romantically _loving a girl who is only two years old in a present is being a pedo. Claire, on the other hand, got the short end of the stick. She's being _forced_ into a life that she wasn't even aware existed for her. And, again, she's only two. You're in my prayers, kid.

Oh, the match made in heaven: Paul and Rachel. My take on this perfect little arrangement? Almost as creepy as Pedo and co. _Her 'lover' is her brother's age._ How do you not have a problem with that? I sure as _hell_ would not fuck around with one of Seth's friends. That's just..._no._

Honestly, it all _sickens_ me.

And, just to add a little _pop!_ into the story, Jacob is going to fall in 'love' with the daughter of the woman who he A) had wet dreams for, B) has made out with. _Multiple times._ And, finally, C) _he's sixteen years older than said girl._ I don't care how fast she grows up, it doesn't change the fact that she was born almost seventeen years after he was.

Bella and Edward's approval of this arrangement is also very creepy. I think I just threw up a little just be thinking about it. Nasty.

_Back_ to the point, though. I feel like disappearing. Just...just fly away, and not look back until I can convince myself to _stay away_. Leave them all behind without feeling sick about it, without feeling bitter towards them. Shocking as it may seem, constantly feeling anger at everyone in the world is not fun, nor is it a fulfilling and easy job. Far from it, my friend.

Everyone thinks I'm a bitter harpy. I'll agree with that, because it's easier to have everyone assume you're a bitch than have to undergo the painful pity that everyone and their mother will shower on me if and when I decide to tell them the truth.

What a shock! Leah Clearwater, Bitch Extraordinaire, is sad? She _actually_ experiences emotions _besides_ pure rage and extreme bitterness? _She's like_ _the rest of us?_ Impossible!

You know what? Screw you, society. Screw you, La Push. Screw you, people who claim to know me. To _get_ me. I'm my own person, and yes, as shocking as it may seem, I feel the same emotions you do. And usually they're ten-times worse, because I can see the _reason_ behind the choices people make. It doesn't give me closure, by the way. It's basically a big neon sign shouting out _This is why you didn't make it!_

The worst part is that _I'm still the reason behind all of it. _Yeah, that fucking makes sense. How the hell did you get there? Blaming the girl who lost the former love of her life to her now ex-best friend, inadvertently killed her father, and lost her new best friend to a half-demon soul-stealer who looks three years old but in reality is really only about six months.

Some of you people are douche-bags. Scratch that: _all _of you people are douche-bags. Go fuck yourselves.

See, saying that is so _easy_. I'd rather say "You're a waste of air, go kill yourself," than "I need you to leave right now. This isn't working out for me," and then burst into tears in front of the person mocking me. People think I'm weak, that I lash out because I'm pathetic. I'm going to prove them wrong.

No matter what it takes. If it means disappearing for a few weeks, months even, then so be it. I'm _willing_, I _know_ that I'll be able to do it some day. Just give me some time- no, not time, a _chance_- and I'll be out here like that. A snap of your fingers, baby, and I'm gone.

I'm sick of the pain, tired of the stress, ready to collapse from all this responsibility shoved onto me because of a gender mix-up. I want a _life_. I want a man who loves me because he _wants_ to; I want a house with happy kids, the white-picket fence, the _American fuckin' Dream._

As to the whole 'shape-shifting' problem: it's my dirty little secret. I swear to _God_ I'll leave it all behind, forget all their faces, and teach my kids about Cinderella or Harry Potter or something. Moving on is my only goal now; I don't want the so-called glory and respect of my community. What I want is a normal life, and I can't even have that without being dragged right back in by the very people who spite me.

Being attached probably doesn't help either. But I'm _trying_, damn it. At least I'm making an effort. Right now, I still look over my shoulder when I leave the house, wondering what might have been. I'm working on it though, I swear. Don't make me seem like I have no dignity. I'm a total girl though. Leaving them all behind is what scares me the most. Pathetic, right? After everything they've put me through, I still can't leave them.

In a way though, they've always been my family. A fucked-up one, sure, but they were always there, in the background somewhere. I'll miss them like hell- well, maybe not Paul- but screw it. I'm out of here as soon as I grow a pair. Metaphorically, of course. But I'm willing to leave it all behind, to start all over again. Become _me_- the real, Leah Clearwater. To be what I want, what I _choose._

I want to let go. But I just don't think that I'm there yet.

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_A/N: Love it? Hate it? Questions, comments, concerns, or insults? Press the review button and lay it on me._


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